


Independent Catractor

by Freedom_Shamrock



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Identity Reveal, Light Bondage, Reveal, Strippers & Strip Clubs, independent contractor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-11-17 11:47:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11274789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Freedom_Shamrock/pseuds/Freedom_Shamrock
Summary: Though he did become Chat Noir, Adrien never got Gabriel to permit public school.  Now an adult, Adrien has left home and modeling to figure out what he wants, and he's being cautious with his savings, so he's living in a tiny apartment in an old run down building.Chapter 7 is where all the explicit sex is, and you can skip to chapter 8 without missing any plot.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This time we get to thank [Callmecirce](http://archiveofourown.org/users/callmecirce/pseuds/callmecirce) for pointing me in this direction. Hoping to see something by both her and [Seasonofthegeek](http://archiveofourown.org/users/seasonofthegeek/pseuds/seasonofthegeek) in this theme. And I now have this whole AU series of odd job fics to consider.
> 
> This was done as a 30 minute speed write over lunch. Please forgive me any typos.

Adrien was jolted out of his slumber by a clattering bang.  He'd launched himself out of bed before he'd fully come awake.  There was either an akuma nearby, or his dingy little apartment was being broken into.  Plagg was still tightly curled in a ball on his pillow, so he was inclined to believe it was a break in.  Lowering to a crouch, he pulled out the sawed off closet bar he'd made for this sort of thing.  Everyone had been concerned about him moving out.  He'd get mugged.  He'd get kidnapped.  He would definitely get robbed.  But since he'd quit modeling and grown out his hair a bit, no one recognized him.

Calling on his cat-like nature, which had been greatly enhanced by his being chosen to wield the power of the black cat miraculous, he crept down the hallway, his bare feet making no noise as they moved over the peeling linoleum.  The efficiency was tiny.  It was his first apartment, and probably below what he could really afford, but it suited him in many ways.  No one would look for Gabriel Agreste's wayward son in this rathole.  He also wasn't sure how long it would take to find **his** career path, and living off his savings and trust fund would only take him so far.  Aiming low early made it more likely he'd be able to explore and find what he really wanted to do.

He'd gotten past the bathroom and was nearly in sight of the kitchen when there was another heart-stopping clang, followed by the low muttering of a feminine voice.  "Goddamn pithy hinges."

Adrien peeked into the kitchen to find a slight Asian woman crouched over a spilled toolbox.  Her blue-black hair was braided and coiled into a tight bun on the top of her head.  She wore a pair of loose tan bib overalls and a black t-shirt.  It had nearly been a year, but he was still new to living on his own.  Still, it had been his experience that burglars didn't carry more than a few lightweight tools.

"Excuse me?" he said quietly.

"Eee-ahhhhh!" she shrieked, leaping to her feet and spinning to face him.  Unfortunately, this also caused her to kick over the toolbox, spilling it further.  She winced and hopped awkwardly on one foot while still managing to keep her hands up and out, a wrench waving wildly in one of them.

Oh god.  She was adorable.  Whoever she was.  "I'm so sorry to have startled you," he apologized quickly.  Setting aside his home made baton, he grabbed one of his two kitchen chairs and moved it over to her.  "Please sit down.  Are you hurt?  Do you need an ice pack?"

"Ouch, ouch, ouch."  She dropped to the chair.  "Fuck."

He rubbed at his mouth to force away the smile.  "I'm so sorry."

She shook her head and pulled off her shoe, rubbing her toes vigorously.  "It's okay.  Not your fault."  She let out a heavy breath.  "I'm so sorry.  Didn't your landlord tell you I'd be in today?" she asked, looking up at him with eyes that rivaled Ladybug's in their color and depth.

He shook his head.

She glanced at the sink.  "You do have a leaky faucet and malfunctioning disposal, right?"

Suddenly everything made sense.  "Oh.  Yeah.  I do."  He'd complained about it the last two months when he turned in his rent.  His landlord blithely assured him he'd get it taken care of.

She sighed.  "I'm so sorry.  He was supposed to let you know I'd be here this morning.  And you didn't answer when I knocked, so I figured you weren't here."  She looked down at her toolbox, which appeared to be broken, the hinges warped and the lid falling off.  She hesitantly looked back at him, apparently taking in his rumpled under-dressed appearance.  "Oh no."  She covered her face with both hands.  "I woke you up.  I'm so sorry!"

He moved closer to kneel on the dark green tiles near her feet.  "It's okay.  I promise.  I mean, if you can fix my sink, it's totally worth it, okay?"  He'd spent most of his life getting yelled at for stupid shit he had no control over.  He had no doubt his landlord just dropped the ball, and he didn't want this young woman to take the blame.

"Really?" she asked, looking at him out of the corner of her eyes.

He nodded.  "Yeah.  It's not a big deal.  I promise."

"Thanks."  The smile she shot him was so sweet he was sure it would have been forbidden when he was on a model diet.  "Umm.  I'm Marinette."  She held out her hand, realizing she was still holding a wrench.  She tucked it into the pocket at the front of her overalls and re-extended her now empty hand.

"Adrien," he said as his palm slid over hers.  "Are you a plumber?"

"JOAT, actually," she corrected, grinning at his confusion.  "It means jack-of-all-trades.  I fix electrical, plumbing, tile, drywall…"  She shrugged.  "I work as a contractor, don't worry, I'm fully bonded."

"Bonded?" he asked uncertainly.

"Yeah.  I have insurance and do routine background checks and stuff, so you know I'm not going to touch or take any of your stuff while I'm working here."

He didn't know that was even a thing.  There was so much he didn't know.

"How long have you been doing this?" he asked.  She seemed around his age.

She pulled her shoe back on, quickly lacing it.  "I started when I was sixteen because my hobbies had gotten too expensive for my parents to afford.  It's not really what I want to be doing, but it pays all right, and the work is flexible, which is something I seriously need."  She shrugged again.  "I have sick family members who need me at odd times, so…"

"Wow."  He'd never met anyone his age who built their life around family.  Hell, his own father couldn't even find ways to scaffold family into his life.  

She rubbed her hands together.  "All right.  I'm going to get working on this so I can get it done and get out of your hair."

"Take your time."  He stood up, realizing he was still just in his underwear.  Being a model had destroyed any body shyness he'd had, and he'd grown to love his much healthier post-model body.  But he was also very much aware that most people didn't talk to strangers in this state of undress.  "Uh… I'll just go… put on some clothes."

As he retreated to his room he was certain he heard her giggle.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette goes with Alya to check out a new hero and akuma themed strip club, and who should she run into? Chat Noir, of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So [Callmecirce](http://archiveofourown.org/users/callmecirce/pseuds/callmecirce) and [Seasonofthegeek](http://archiveofourown.org/users/seasonofthegeek/pseuds/seasonofthegeek) both one-upped me when they added the stripper component that came up in discussion after I was done, so I'm back with chapter two, and I'm afraid there has to be a chapter three.
> 
> If you haven't already, **do** check out their stories on this theme.

"He was really sweet about it," Marinette said, wringing her fingers together as she followed her best friend down the sidewalk.

"So don't worry about it."  She shook her head.  "I'm not sure why you're this worked up over it.  Henri likes your work, and he's known you long enough to know none of this was intentional, if the guy turns out to be a dick and complains."

Marinette huffed.  "I really don't think he will… but Alya, he...Oh, his name was Adrien.  He introduced himself.  And he was just so beautiful."  She let herself remember the way the lighting made shadows over his chest and stomach.  "And I'm sure he thinks I'm a complete idiot."

"We're all idiots some of the time, Mar.  You know that."  Alya gestured to the flashing lights ahead, signaling they were nearing their destination.  "And maybe you didn't get to see him being one this time, but if you keep running into him, I bet you will."

"Hmmm."  Marinette thought a moment.  "He  **did** come out in nothing but his underwear.  That's weird, right?"  She shrugged.  "But I also think he thought I was a really incompetent burglar, so why would he get dressed."

"Wait, wait, wait."  Alya stopped in the middle of the sidewalk.  "This whole thing, you dropping your box, nearly busting your toes while you went all Kung Fu Panda, and sharing your work history, that was all done while he was mostly naked?  Hot damn, girl.  That should have been the first detail you shared."

Marinette giggled, feeling her cheeks flush.  "Hot damn is right."

"Ah ha!" Alya crowed.  "You want to jump him.  No wonder you're all worked up."  She grabbed Marinette's arm.  "C'mon.  This place should be just what you need."

Marinette looked up at the flashing white lights and cursive red cursive of the huge sign over the double glass doors.  "Miraculous!" the sign proclaimed.  Underneath, in a green that rivaled Chat Noir's eyes ran the tagline.  "Let us show you ours."  She snorted.  She'd have to ask him about this place when they met up for the next patrol or akuma, whichever happened first.  She half expected to hear that he ran the marketing department or something.

"You're not getting cold feet are you?" Alya asked, disappointment creeping into her voice.

Marinette snorted.  "As if."  She pointed to the sign.  "Since we're here on research for your blog, you ought to take a picture of that."

"Great idea!"  She held up her phone and captured the sign alone, then took a second photo of Marinette wiggling her eyebrows as she gestured to the doors.  "So the idea of strippers with akuma and hero themed acts doesn't bug you, but random hot guy in a dumpy apartment makes you wig."  They went into the vestibule, where a really tall woman dressed as a paramedic asked to see their IDs.

"Oh Alya, he wasn't just any hot guy."  She sighed, handing the cover charge and her ID through the slot.  "Thanks."  She held out her hand to be stamped.  The result was invisible, so she suspected it reacted to black light.  "He was just so sweet, and he seemed kind of lonely.  I mean… I try not to look around people's places, but his… it was so tidy, but so… there were no signs of family or friends."

"Most strippers are sweethearts, and some are lonely," Alya pointed out as they moved to the next door, which opened for them.

Marinette shrugged.  "I don't know why I'm freaked out over him, okay.  But don't worry.  I'm not going to ditch you.  I mean the odds of the hottie from apartment 434 being here are…" she faltered as a Chat Noir themed dancer met them just inside the second set of doors.  "Astronomically good, actually," she whispered.  There was Adrien, from room 434, in tight leather pants and some sort of harness over his chest, definitely bondage in nature.  He'd accessorized with a plain black collar, a black mask and cat ears that had to be some sort of headband.

"Good evening ladies," he said, his voice silky and frighteningly close to the real Chat Noir's.  His polite smile turned into a bit of a bit of a sideways grin.  "Ahhh.  Princess," he said, gently taking Marinette's hand in one of his own, clad in black leather.  His eyes watched her, she suspected to make sure she was okay with what he was doing.  "It is a purrleasure to see you again."  He bent to kiss her hand.

Alya let out a guffaw.  "Hey Chat," she said.  "Does Ladybug know you're working here?"

He let out a heavy wistful sigh.  "Alas, My Lady is not interested in the details of my civilian life."  He shook his head.

"So there's not a Ladybug on the staff?"  Alya sounded shocked.  "How can you have a Miraculous strip club without her?"

Adrien let out a chuckle.  "None of the Ladybug candidates have been a true fit."  He tapped one finger against his chin.  "Perhaps this is why we are so overrun by various akuma."  He waved toward the dance floor, where Stormy Weather spun in circles before tossing aside her fluffy skirt and skipping across the floor in a dark purple or black thong.

Straightening up he offered an arm to each of them.  "Oh no, you escort Mari, I'll follow.  I've got to check out the back of your suit."

"Ogle as you like," he said, patting Marinette's hand when she looped it through his arm.  "I'll just escort you two to the very best table, then, shall I?"

"Please do," Alya agreed.

Marinette was uncomfortable with the silence.  "I'm not stalking you, I promise," she said, bashfully looking up at him.  Damn, he was about the right height for Chat Noir, too.  "I really didn't know you worked here."

He grinned.  "It's okay."  He winked.  "And it would be okay even if you  **had** stalked me."

She glanced away, her cheeks going red.  She reminded herself that this was a persona.  It didn't mean anything.  It was all part of the job.  So… she may as well play along, right?  Looking back at him, she frowned.  "Kitty is missing his bell," she pouted, reaching out to touch the spot where it should have been.

Behind his mask, Adrien's eyes went wide, and she felt the deep influx of breath.  "Yeah.  Haven't been able to find the right one."

"Poor Kitty."  She rubbed her finger under his chin, surprised to find his response identical to the real Chat Noir's.  He hummed and his eyelids drooped.  Maybe it was less a Chat thing after all.  "I'll have to fix that for you."

She pulled back her hand and he tried to chase it with his chin for a moment.  Clearing his throat, he asked, "You could do that?"

Marinette nodded.  "That expensive hobby I mentioned is design."  She ran her finger over his collar again.  "Yeah.  I can fix this right up for you, if you're a good kitty."

He bent his head to whisper in her ear.  "What if I'm a very..."  His breath was hot against her face and neck, and he seemed to be exhaling far more than necessary.  " **Very** naughty kitty?" he asked.

"Aaah."  The noise was half squeak, half sigh.  "I guess… I could… work with that."

He straightened up and waved his hand grandly over a tiny round table surrounded by stools.  "Your table, Princess."  He bowed to Alya, "Advisor of Princess."

"Should we expect to see your very fine tail on the floor this evening?" Alya asked cheerfully.

His answering grin was a hundred percent Chat Noir.  "Why do you think I gave you this spot?"  His beautiful eyebrows arched.  "I'll save a dance just for you Princess, what do you say?"

"She says, hell yes," Alya responded.  She patted her upper chest twice.  "I'm your advisor Mari.  You gotta do what I say.  And I say you're getting a lap dance from the cat."

Adrien's eyes met Mari's and he waited.  "While I'd love to take your advisor's word, I do need your consent, Princess."

Marinette nodded.  "Yeah.  Okay.  I mean… I'm here to have fun, and that… sounds like it's as fun as it gets."   She slapped her hand over her mouth, cursing her tendency to babble.

Adrien grinned.  "Great.  I'll see you in a bit, then, Princess."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to end here. There's somewhere I'm supposed to be this evening.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette and Alya have some fun at Miraculous. Especially Marinette. She might need a little time to herself just now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure I'm happy with this, but it could just be that I've never written a pole or lap dance before. Seriously, straight up erotica is much easier for me to write. But hopefully this does the trick. Please enjoy.

Marinette watched Adrien's very toned ass as he walked away.  He moved like a model on a catwalk, an awful lot like Chat Noir did, actually.  He'd clearly done his research, and immersed himself in the role.  His tail hung and swished with the motion of his hips rather than moving like a real cat's.  She wondered if a little wire reinforcement might make it work more like the real thing.

"That is one  **fine** backside," Alya said, elbows on the table and leaning toward her friend.  " **You** certainly find it mesmerizing."

Marinette looked away and shook her head slightly.  "No.  I mean, yeah.  It  **is** nice.  Umm… really nice.  But I was thinking about the design of his tail."

Alya grinned.  "Gonna offer to fix that too, Ms. JOAT?"  She giggled.  "I heard you offering to improve on his collar."

Marinette shrugged.  "Just being friendly."  Stormy Weather did one last full body roll before posing and then sauntering off the other side of the stage to interact with the crowd.  A short black woman in the club's Miraculous Pawramedics suits casually picked up the discarded clothing items and headed back stage.

"And that chin scratch?"

"Hey, if he can play and flirt, so can I."  Dammit.  Her cheeks were hot again, but fortunately, the blush was unlikely to show in the club's lighting.  "I  **am** allowed to have fun."

Alya shrugged.  "I guess I can see why he was unphased about chatting you up in his underwear."

Marinette nodded, barely managing to squelch her giggle.

"And I think he likes you," Alya added.

"Pfft.  He's role playing," Marinette said, dismissively.  She'd love for him to be actually interested, at least enough to find out if he was as kind as he'd seemed.  He was gorgeous and sweet, but would they really have anything in common?  She gazed out at the dance floor, checking out this allegedly prime table.  Seating nearly circled the entire stage, except for the edge where the DJ booth and backstage door were.  While their table was one of the closest to the stage, and gave a decent view of the space as a whole, one of the two floor-to-ceiling poles was directly in front of them.

Alya was checking out the room, making notes on her cellphone.  "This place is seriously sweet.  It's clean and really well set up, but it is pretty new, so that's to be expected."  She watched as a couple well-known akuma themed dancers escorted other guests to tables around the stage.  "I wonder if they'll maintain this atmosphere, or let it dive."

Marinette tapped her arm.  "Um, this may have escaped you, but did you notice our host gave us a front row seat for the pole?"

Alya's eyes went wide.  "Of course the Chat dancer  **would** specialize in pole work."  She smirked.  "And you've always been weak for that sort of thing."

"Ah!" Marinette protested.  "That is  **so** not true."  She glanced at the pole, trying to imagine Adrien spinning around it, inverted and stretched along it, and hastily looked back at her best friend.  "I just think good core strength and grace are sexy."  

Alya laughed.  "Yes.  That's  **all** it is."

She realized that Adrien was no longer roaming the audience, and the seats were really filling up.  She and Alya had been to several burlesque and strip clubs in the last few years, seeing a wide range of talent.  Being this close could be good or uncomfortable, depending a lot on the dancers.  

The opening of Starships kicked in and a Reflekta dancer took to the stage, looking for all the world like the real thing.  At this point, there had been more akuma than Marinette could keep track of, but many of those early ones were firmly lodged in her mind.  "Wow."

Alya nodded.  "I'd heard they took great pains for theatrical accuracy, and I gotta tell ya Mar, I  **am** impressed."

Marinette let out a little sigh of relief when it immediately became clear that these dancers were highly skilled.  Reflekta appeared to be wearing toe shoes instead of platforms, and obviously had a ballet background.  She spun and leaped and shook her hips in a way that somehow seemed a little more upscale than simply prancing around the pole or miming sex with it.  She shed her clothes seamlessly, as part of the dance, rather than in awkward hasty pauses.  Around the song's halfway point, she was down to a sleeveless fuchsia full bodysuit with strategic cutouts.

Alya gasped as the dancer launched a spectacular leap off the stage to stroll the floor.  Marinette pulled a couple bills from the stack of singles inside her jacket pocket and waved them toward the dancer, summoning her over.

Reflekta effortlessly raised one leg up to the side, gradually pulling it close to her body, her knee just under her ear.  "Hey there cuties."  Dropping her leg, she leaned onto their table, drawing attention to her cleavage as she waved her rear to the beat.  "Which of you is getting the Chat Special tonight?"

Marinette tucked the money into the dancer's top.  "That'd be me."

Reflekta winked.  "Whatever you did, you made that guy happier than I've  **ever** seen him.  He deserves it.  And you're in for a hell of a treat."

"Yes!" Alya said, adding her own tip to the dancer's bodysuit.  "Your act is amazing, by the way."

"Thanks ever so."  Reflekta blew them a kiss before heading toward the next table calling for her.

"Ha!" Alya crowed.  "I knew he liked you."

"He's probably just happy to have a functional sink," Marinette said, waving her off.  "Though, now I'm super curious about what I signed up for."

The club was packed by the time Reflekta gave a bow and made a graceful ballerina exit.  The lights dimmed a bit while the staff cleared the floor.

The next song seemed a huge departure from the usual in these venues, starting with a clean undistorted baseline that was clearly neither techno nor even really dance music.  A group at a nearby table erupted into catcalls.  "Bring it Chat Noir!" one of the guys shouted.

"Ooooh."  Alya wriggled in excitement.  "Sounds like your boy is popul-- woah."

In the middle of her teasing, Adrien made his entrance with a couple of cartwheels and a backflip.  He was barefoot now, and in different pants that couldn't possibly be fully leather.  Few things could fit that tight without restricting movement.  He rolled his body to the music, the muscles in his chest and abdomen highlighted by the motion and the lighting.  This guy definitely knew what he was doing.  With a hop that seemed almost casual, he looped one arm around the pole and leaned back to spin around it, his body parallel to the floor and his free arm reaching out.  After a few rotations, he raised first one foot and then the other.  One bare hand reached down to the floor and with a nudge from a foot, he turned over and dropped into the splits.

He met Marinette's eyes then, and his happy smile widened to show his teeth.  Then in a move that was pure breakdance, he rocked back and kicked his feet overhead to bring him some spin.  In a moment, he was back on his feet, smoothly moving his body to the music.

Marinette took a shaky breath, dropped all pretense of disinterest and grabbed onto her friend's forearm.  "Oh.  My.  God.  He's amazing."

"Flexible and ridiculously toned," Alya pointed out.  "Just your type."

Arms up in a V, he did a series of exaggerated hip rolls, gradually pivoting on one foot so everyone got a perfect view from both the front and the back.

"And such a tease," Alya giggled.

"He's a pole dancer," Marinette pointed out, feeling a little breathless.  "He's supposed to be a...oooooh."  His back was to them now and he dropped his hands to his waist before smoothly drawing them down to his ankles without bending his knees, apparently unzipping the sides of his pants on the way.  His fake leathers dropped to the stage, leaving him fully bent over in tiny black shorts.  "Oh, that's… really nice."  His hands were on the floor and he slowly raised his legs into a handstand, then equally slowly spread them into the splits.  He was roughly twenty seconds into the song and he'd already done two splits and spun down the pole once.  The shorts hugging his hips somehow managed to seem less decent than the bikini cut underwear he'd had on when they met.  To be fair, being paired with a harness of leather straps and silver o-rings only reinforced the message that this version of him meant business.  With a series of booty rolls and another wink in her direction, she shoved away any shyness and let herself freely enjoy the moment.  This beautiful and impossibly graceful guy was showing her special attention, and his motives didn't matter.  The fragile temporary nature of whatever this was, was accepted and set aside.

Backing into the pole, he reached overhead and grasped it with both hands.  Tucking his knees to his chest, he defied gravity to backward somersault up the pole.  She gave up on trying to interact with Alya, and just focused on his routine.  She'd never seen anything like it, and she had to admit, it made her wonder what the real Chat Noir would do in the same situation.  This kitty had the strength and showiness down.  He was clearly in his element, and she was more than a little amazed by what he was able to make his body do.

When he left the stage for his circuit on the floor, it was with an aerial cartwheel off the other side of the stage.  Marinette watched as he willingly danced with other patrons, pausing briefly for selfies as he worked his way around the room.  His shorts and harness swiftly becoming adorned with more and more money.

As he approached their table, Marinette fumbled for her singles, seriously tempted to give them all to him, one at a time and tucked into various places so she could touch him a bit everywhere.

"Thank you so much, madame advisor," he said turning around at Alya's little finger twirl and watching over his shoulder as he slipped a few bills into the back of his shorts.

"Oh no, no," Alya corrected.  "Thank  **you** for getting my girl all worked up."

He turned to Marinette, his grin a shade too sweet to be the real Chat Noir.  "Did you enjoy my show, Princess?"  He caught her money-filled hand before she could decide where to tuck the bills and bent to kiss her knuckles.  "You provided a very helpful focus, thank you."

The suggestion that he'd been dancing specifically for her brought back her blush in full force.  "Oh," she gasped.  He was so unfair.  Focusing on her interactions with her crime fighting partner, she yanked her mind back online.  "You're amazing."  When he released her hand, she gently brushed the edges of the paper bills across his chest, wishing she could trail her fingers there instead.  Suddenly inspired, she winked at him before carefully tucking her tip under his collar.  "Gonna have to get you a bell, Kitty."

"You ready for your special treatment, Princess?" he asked.

She realized the Miraculous Pawramedic was settling a high-backed chair on the stage, right in front of the DJ's booth.  The audience reacted with hoots and applause.  "Yeah."  

Adrien touched her jacket sleeve.  "You look a little warm there, Princess."  He glanced at Alya.  "Wanna leave your jacket with your advisor?"

"Oh… sure."  Feeling slightly dazed, like she was drunk even though she hadn't had any alcohol yet, she pulled off the jacket and handed it to Alya.  Then he took her hand and led her to the stage to the cheers and raucous calls of the audience.  Her pink dress with flared skirt was suitable for a night out, but she suddenly wished she'd gone with something less sweet and more provocative.  She'd have to remember that when they came back.   **If** .  If they came back.

"You still okay with this?" he asked, his lips brushing her ear to be heard over the noise.

"Yeah.  Very sure."  She smiled at him.  "I'm sorry I'm a little…"  She rolled her eyes and waved her hands a little.  "Your dance was amazing."  

"I'm so glad you think so."  His sweet smile was back.  "On the back of the chair, you'll find a little black bag for my tips.  One of us gets to hold it while the other collects the money from my…"  He paused, running a finger down the leather strap that ran from one shoulder to a ring in the center of his chest.  "Supersuit."

"It's  **something** super," she agreed, giggling.

"Which would you rather do?"

They were up on stage now, and Marinette reached for the bag.  She handed it to him, grinning at his look of pleased surprise.  Fully aware that this was part of the show, she slowly circled him, plucking out the bills with exaggerated movements and putting them in his bag.  She worked her way from the hem of his tiny shorts up his body, watching his expression to make sure he was okay with what she was doing.

"Princess is a tease," he said, beaming at her.  "Maybe you need to join the club."

She grinned as she held her fingers just above his skin and pretended to double check for missed money.  She'd very intentionally left her tip in his collar for last.  "I'm not graceful like you, Kitty.  Much though I'd love to try the pole, I'd probably break something."

Mischief alighted on his face.  "You just need an assist."

She made a show of pulling the money out of his collar, kissing it, and dropping it into the bag.

Chuckling, he took her shoulders and gently backed her into the chair.  He leaned over her, hanging up the bag and speaking into her ear again.  "We'll start easy peasy, kay?"

She nodded.

"And we'll see what seems like a good idea once we get into it."  He tucked her hair behind her ear.  "I'm not going to actually kiss you, but I like to nuzzle, is that all right?"

"Yeah," she managed to gasp.  Oh god, she hoped he nuzzled her.  Neck nuzzles were second only to neck kisses.

"My hands will stay clear of your breasts and crotch," he said, leaning back to meet her eyes.  "Anything else you want me to keep my paws off?"

"My earrings," she said.  She shrugged.  "They've been tugged by less nice people than you, Kitty, so they make me a little flinchy."

"Don't want that."  He brushed his thumb down one cheek and reached up one arm, apparently signaling the DJ, because another bass riff kicked in right after.  He stepped back, twitching his hips and rolling his shoulders through the intro.  The first lyrics appropriately had something to do with wearing a mask, and he ran his fingers over the edge of his before turning around and treating her to the glory that was his crazy defined back.  The music allowed him to roll and flow in a way that didn't really work as well with techno music.  He took a few steps then raised his arms and went into a smooth backbend, where he could smile upside-down at her.  He transitioned to a one handed handstand, wiggling his fingers at her in an adorable wave before dropping into the splits.  Arching his back, he strained against his harness, then he rolled backward over one shoulder to end up on all fours in front of her.

She beckoned to him with one finger, and his delighted smile went full on gleeful.  He crawled toward her, sticking to the pace of the music and rolling his shoulders in a way that gave her the distinct impression he was stalking her.  He slipped one hand between her knees and tapped gently, encouraging her to spread her legs just a bit.  The way her skirt had ridden up, there was a decent chance she was flashing him her panties.  But, she'd seen his, so it was fair, right?  She gasped when his hand came down on the edge of the chair, between her thighs but very carefully not touching her.

Reaching for her shoulder and then the back of the chair, he crawled up and over to stand straddling her, his gorgeous ass suspended over her lap so she could feel his heat but wasn't actually touching him.  As he rolled and swayed above her, he reached down and gently took her hands in his, easing them open from their tightly fisted state.  He leaned in and brushed his cheek against hers.  "Relax, Princess.  If you're so tense, I'll be afraid you're not having any fun."

"This is more fun than I've had in months," she replied, gasping again as he led her hands to his chest.  His skin was warm and soft, like bamboo fabric that had been left in a sunbeam.

"Oh, Princess, that just won't do."  He pressed his face gently against her neck, his nose gently trailing a path from her collarbone to under her ear.  "You deserve all the fun and then some."  He nuzzled her again, and his hands helped hers find the front straps of his harness.  "I think maybe you need something to hold on to."

Tipping her head back, and hoping she looked accommodating rather than needy and desperate, she wondered if Alya was recording this.  It might be nice to have a copy for… review.  She eased her fingers under the snug leather straps.  If nothing else, it kept her from doing anything inappropriate.  

His body continued to move over her, despite the nuzzles, and his very fine ass brushed against the top of her thighs a few times.  She let out a sigh.  "I had no idea how nice it was to have a kitty in my lap."

He withdrew from her neck and laughed.  "So it's working for you then?"  He was clearly having fun.

"Definitely a fan," she insisted.

He inched in closer, the touch of his butt against her thighs becoming more firm and consistent as he rolled his whole torso against hers.  He dove in for another nuzzle.  This close, with him sweaty from his first dance, she was surprised not to detect any fragrances.  His hair was soft against her cheeks, but she couldn't smell his shampoo.  His skin was another story.  He smelled slightly spicy, and it was definitely him and not his body wash; it was delightful.  Her whole body felt flushed and hot, and this time it had nothing to do with embarrassment.

"You keep that up Kitty and I think  **I'm** the one who's going to be purring," she said, tightening her grip on his harness to keep her hands from groping him like she wanted to.

He straightened up and grinned at her.  "You're gonna make me blush, Princess," he said, carefully rolling the R in the nickname.

"Doubtful," she said.  "You have no shame, Kitty."

He laughed and writhed against her again, this time dragging his fingertips against the skin of her arms.  "Ooooh.  My Princess has teeth."  He made a sassy show of snapping his teeth at her.  This evoked a screech and catcall from the audience.

She giggled.  The mix of tease and silliness should  **not** have been sexy.  But it very definitely was.  She realized it was probably a kink, and she hadn't discovered it because she'd been dating all the wrong people.

He touched his forehead to hers."I have an idea I think you'll like.  You okay with a bit more contact?"

She nodded.  "Definitely."

"Just follow my directions.  We're going to get your legs around my waist so I can take you up on the pole," he explained.

Marinette gawked at him.  "Really?"  She glanced at the pole.  "You can do that."

He grinned.  "I'm the only one insured for it here at Miraculous, and it's not a ride I take just anyone on.  But you're special."  He gently booped her nose.  "You game?"

Being closer to him sounded hella nice, and she'd always been curious what it was like to be on the pole.  She nodded eagerly.  With a few suggestions and minor moves, he was no longer straddling her.  His hands gently gripped her thighs, coaching her bring them up around his waist.

He nuzzled her neck again.  "I'm gonna stand up.  Are you ready?"

"Less talk, more action, Kitty," she taunted.

"You got it, Princess."  He straightened up, both hands initially cupping her rear, his fingers splayed.  He rolled his body, grinning at her startled reaction.  After a moment he dipped her and then spun them toward the pole closest to Alya.

He leaned her against the pole, using his hands as a buffer and tucked his face into her neck again.  Having his bare abs pressed against her panties was maddeningly delicious.  He was warm and firm, and she wondered how bad it would be to ask him to come home with her.  He probably got propositioned regularly.  Sex for the sake of sex was fine, but a lot of the time it was just sort of meh, and she'd kind of hit a point where she wanted something more.  She reminded herself that just because he'd made her want him, didn't mean he felt the same way about her.

"I have a handle on how you affect my balance, now.  You ready?"

She looked up at the pole and smiled.

"Please keep your hands and feet wrapped round the Chat until your Chat comes to a complete stop," he said in a robotic voice.

She giggled.  It was unfair for him to be cute and funny while also being so freaking sexy. 

"I will always have one hand on you, and if you need to get down, just tell me."  He waited for her confirming nod, then walked a tight circle round the pole before stretching one arm up and pulling them both up.  Between that one hand and his feet, he was able to bring them halfway up to the ceiling.  With one leg twisted around the pole, he leaned back to be parallel with the floor fifteen feet below.  

He looked at her, nestled against his chest.  "Hey princess.  You can sit up and have a look around."

Careful not to let go of his harness or push against his chest, she sat up.  She saw Alya laughing her head off below, her cell phone trained on them.  The audience evidently found this to be the best thing ever, and she saw a growing pile of money around the edge of the stage.  When her gaze fell on Adrien, their position spurred her imagination.  She wanted nothing more than to pin him to the bed, or the floor, she wasn't picky, and ride him until they both broke.  All amusement fled.

"Hey," he said, his eyebrows furrowing as his smile faded.  "You okay?  You need to get down?"

She shook her head, feeling the heat in her cheeks again.  She was going to be permanently red at this rate.  "I'm okay."

He blinked and nodded, his smile understanding.  "You're pretty hot, too, Princess."  He pulled his body up against hers, pressing close again.  "Ready to swing around a bit?  The song's nearly over."

She nodded.

"I'm going to switch hands here," he explained, wrapping his other arm around her and grasping on to the pole with the hand that had been holding her.  "There's going to be a little drop as I change position.  Then we'll spin down."

She wasn't sure if it was because he was doing such a good job channeling her partner, or if it was the hormones making her stupid, but she trusted him.  Every move felt expected and certain, and she giggled at the drop rather than squeaking in alarm.

"Thanks for dancing with me, Princess," he said as his bare feet touched the ground.

"Is it okay if I kiss your cheek?" she asked, reluctantly unhooking her feet before loosening her hold on his harness.  She would have liked to me impulsive, but he'd been so careful about boundaries and consent, she had to follow that pattern.

"I would love it," he said, and it sounded like a confession.  

Stretching onto her toes, she leaned in and pressed her lips to his cheek.  "You're sweet, Kitty.  Thanks for the ride."

"Anytime, Princess."  He cupped her cheek.  "I do hope this isn't the last time I see you."

She grinned.  "It won't be.  I need to fix your collar, remember."  She tapped the front of the wide leather strap around his neck.  "I know where you live.  I'll be in touch."  She skipped down the stairs, wondering how soon she could convince Alya to leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to check out some excellent pole dancing, I'm now a huge fan of Alex Shchukin. A nice sample of his work is here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SKGbHwliseM&index=4&list=PLshVjJ98LAbrLCTFZLI0AyQSfB8QXHiei


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette gets to know this Adrien, and learns how he ended up as the amazing pole dancing Chat Noir.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a little plot to tide us over and get us to the next set of fun chapters.

Adrien leaned on his apartment door with his shoulder as he awkwardly shuffled two grocery bags and his mail.  He'd gone for a late morning run and stopped at the store on his way back.  He knew a lot of people found independent life full of annoying have-tos, but he fully embraced them.  He wondered if the novelty of being his own person would ever wear off.

As he crossed the threshold, he noticed a pink envelope that had been pushed under his door.  "Hey Plagg, can you grab that for me?" he asked, bumping the door closed with his hip.

"I would," Plagg replied, his nasal voice extra whiny.  "But I'm so weak with hunger."

Grinning, Adrien shook his head.  "If you pick it up for me, I can focus on getting your cheese."

Plagg zipped out of his pocket, depositing the envelope on the tiny table for two.  "You should always lead requests off with their relationship to my cheese."

"Duly noted."  Adrien pushed the canvas bags onto the counter and rummaged in one to pull out the large haul of aged dairy products.  Plagg had been so supportive of Adrien leaving home, he'd even been willing to forego his favorite cheese to help his chosen make ends meet until things were more certain.  "What are you in the mood for?"

"That swiss was nicely fragrant," Plagg said, hovering over the pile as Adrien sorted it into the refrigerator.  He let out an exaggerated gasp.  "You got camembert?"

"It was on sale."  Adrien set aside both the camembert and swiss and got down a plate.  "Want halvsies on these two?"

"Yes, yes, yes!"  Plagg spun in an upward spiral.  "You're officially my favorite kitten."

Smiling to himself, Adrien dished up Plagg's breakfast.  They'd had lengthy conversations about whether Adrien qualified as a kitten, and he knew the term of endearment wasn't going anywhere.  It was nice, actually.  And compared to the several-thousand-year-old kwami, he'd always just be a kitten.  "You deserve it.  And hopefully in the future I'll be able to buy it more often."

"Probably not until you're done with university," Plagg pointed out.  "Don't sweat it, kid.  I can make do."

The groceries away, Adrien set out his own breakfast of yogurt, fruit and a croissant opposite Plagg's cheese plate.  In the first few days in his new place, they'd accidentally established a breakfast routine that stuck.  After years of eating alone in his father's intimidating dining room, this cozy atmosphere was comforting and reminded him what he'd achieved for himself.

"You gonna read your letter?" Plagg asked.

"Oh," Adrien said, picking it up.  "I wonder what it is."  The pastel pink envelope was small, the size of a thank you card.  When he flipped it over, he nearly dropped it in surprise.  Smooth elegant handwriting had addressed the envelope simply _Kitty_.  Had someone figured out he was Chat Noir?  Or was it a fan from the club?  He shoved his finger under the flap tearing it open.

_Adrien -_

_Thank you for the lovely dance.  I'm sure the real Chat Noir would be pleased with your representation of him._

He smiled.  She was correct.  The real Chat Noir **was** pleased.

_But we definitely need to get you a bell for your sweet Kitty neck, and I have some design ideas to enhance your tail (the belt one, not the other one, as it needs no enhancement).  If you're interested, just shoot me a text._

_Nuzzles and wrenches,_

_~ Princess_

Adrien felt the stupid grin spread over his face, and went back to reread the note.

"Ooooh," Plagg said, alerting Adrien to his presence, hovering over the card.  "Looks like somebody has a girlfriend," he teased.

"She's not my girlfriend," Adrien corrected, but didn't bother trying to hide the card.  His kwami had already read it, there was no real point.

"Yet," Plagg added.  "And you need to snatch her up.  She's clearly as much a dork as you are.  Nuzzles and wrenches?  Seriously?"

The noise that escaped Adrien was best described as a giggle.  "Did you see her?  She's so gorgeous.  And she was so much fun to play with."

"You're such a cat," Plagg said, smirking.  "What are you waiting for?  Text the cute crowbar wielding princess."

"I need a shower," Adrien said, hesitating as he reached for his cell phone.

"Not to text," Plagg pointed out.  "And the shower will keep you occupied so you don't work yourself into a high-strung ball of anxiety and regret."

"Hey!"  Adrien didn't elaborate on his objection because Plagg was painfully accurate.

* * *

Adrien stood just outside the cafe Marinette had suggested for their early evening meet up.  Plagg kept calling it a date, and while he would have liked to do the same, he didn't want to risk getting his hopes up, just to get burned.  

Since leaving home, he'd found that people liked him well enough, but found him a little odd.  He was cheerful and friendly, but a life of socializing only with other models, designers, and funders had messed him up in ways he'd never expected.  He'd only had one steady girlfriend, when he was sixteen.  She'd been a longtime friend, and her father was important politically, but she'd turned out to be cold and abusive.  The folks at Miraculous had been pretty understanding of his social deficiencies, both the dancers and the other staff.  A few of them made a point of gently correcting his behaviors and teaching him things he should have picked up as a kid.  He suspected he'd never come across as fluent in casual social interactions.

He fidgeted with his cell phone, pocketed it, and looked up at the ominous clouds.  He suspected the weather might finally follow through on the threat it had been making all day.  It would be a wet patrol, then.  But it was shared patrol night, and he was really looking forward to seeing Ladybug.  She'd never found him too weird, and in the last eight years, their friendship had become something deep and important.  She'd been so mad at him for hiding his bad home life until he got out of it.  She'd comforted him when his dating luck turned out just as lousy as hers.  More recently, she'd encouraged him to apply to university to help him become the person he wanted to be, not something carefully constructed by his father.  She and Plagg were the two positive constants in his life.

The sound of feet tapping against the sidewalk caught his attention.  He smiled at the sight of Marinette half-jogging toward the cafe.  She was wearing a swishy halter dress that would have been perfect in a 1950s pinup calendar.  It was black with green ties and a sash he would've bet tied in a bow above her darling derriere.  A matching strip of green ran along the hem.  He wished he'd been able to dress a little nicer than navy shorts and a red polo.  But his diet and dance regimen in the last ten months had brought him a physique that didn't fit in scrawny model Adrien's clothes.  When he got rid of them, he hadn't replaced them.

"Good evening Marinette," he called when she was a few feet away, raising a hand in greeting.

"Oh, hi Adrien."  She looked up, smiled, and tripped over her own feet.

Launching himself forward, Adrien was able to catch her before her face could meet the concrete.  "Easy there Princess," he murmured, easily bringing her to her feet.  Her cheeks were pink with embarrassment, and she looked everywhere but his face.  "You okay?"

She nodded quickly.  "Just madly clumsy."  She sighed.  "I warned you about that, right?"  She shook her head.  "And you've seen it now, at least twice."

"You needn't go to such extremes to fall for me," he teased, then held out his elbow.  "Let me buy you a hot drink of your choice, and we can talk about this proposal you have."

"You don't have to…"

He shook his head and opened the door.  "You've come up with designs to make my costume better.  Let me show my appreciation in this painfully simple and easy way."

Once they had their drinks, an Indian chai for her and a mocha latte for him, they sat down at a small round table near the front windows.  When she reached to open her Ladybug patterned messenger bag, he held up a hand to stop her.  "Are you in a rush?  Do you need to be anywhere?"

She shook her head.  "No.  I'm meeting with my best friend at nine, but nothing else."

"Is it okay if we visit a little first?" he asked, feeling shy and nervous.  Was he being too strange?  "I… um… up until a year ago every moment of every day was planned out for me.  I've found that I really like having the opportunity to take things slow and simple."

Her smile was one of such happiness, he felt his heart rate pick up.  "I'd like that, actually.  I just thought… don't you work nights?"

"Not every night," he corrected.  "I'm doing part time right now so some of the other dancers can get a few more shifts in.  The club's getting really popular, and I think your friend's review is only going to help."

"Oh.  Did you see it?"  Her cheeks were pink-kissed again.  He loved that look on her.

He nodded.  "It was very complimentary."  He grinned.  "I didn't realize she was **the** Alya, famous webmistress of the Ladyblog."

"Yeah, that's her."  She shrugged.

"Want to tell me anything about yourself?" he asked.  Oh, that had come out awkward.  "I mean, I already know you're a JOAT extraordinaire and you design clothes, too.  You're a little clumsy, you're a ton of fun to flirt with, and you're gorgeous.  What else should I know?"

She giggled.  "Wow.  Um.  Thanks."  She reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear.  "I graduated with a design degree last year, but I haven't been able to find an internship that works for my schedule and my budget.  So many of them are unpaid, and I'd have to move home if I wanted to do that."

"Is home a bad place?" he asked cautiously.

She shook her head.  "Definitely not.  My parents are wonderful.  But… I like being on my own, making my own decisions, and doing things my way.  You know?"

He nodded.  "Do I ever."

"I've got a little online boutique," she went on.  "It gets slow but steady business."

He stared at her a moment.  "You help take care of a family member, you work as an all purpose maintenance person, and you have an online fashion business?"  He whistled and shook his head.  "Way to set the bar, Princess.  You keep busy."

She shrugged.  "I like being busy.  And it makes me feel less bad about the fact that I haven't exactly met my personal career goals yet."

It was an interesting perspective, one he hadn't considered.  

"So what about you?" she asked.  "What should I know about Adrien, the extra spicy Kitty?"

He couldn't have stopped the laugh if he wanted to.  "Oh god.  Can I use that as my tagline?   **Please**?  Extra spicy…"  

She grinned.  "Only if you tell me more about yourself.  I need to be able to come up with other descriptors if you're going to steal that one."

He nodded.  "Okay.  I'll start by pointing out that I was homeschooled my whole life, and… I've been told that it's made me a bit strange.  So if I do something rude, please tell me."

"You haven't," she assured him.

"My father is actually a fashion designer."  He wasn't sure this was really first not-date material, but it probably needed to be out there sooner rather than later.  "You've probably heard of him.  If you grew up in Paris, you've probably heard of me, too.  I used to be his primary model."

Marinette leaned back and looked at him more carefully.  Reaching forward, she paused before pushing his hair off his forehead.  Her expression was vaguely puzzled.  "I should be able to place you," she said, sounding a little annoyed.  "You look familiar, but I can't, quite…"

"Need a hint?" he asked.

She nodded.

"My father's last name is Agreste."  Her eyes went wide.  "I dropped it, of course, when I moved out.  Didn't really want any connection with him, and figured he'd probably sue me for defamation if I sullied his name."

"Oh."  Her voice was very quiet.  He could see the questions she wanted to ask, but she surprised him.  "What's your last name now, then?"

The worry he hadn't been aware of holding, vanished.  "Bartholome.  It was my middle name."

"How did you end up where you are now?" she asked, curious and without a hint of judgement.

It was a good question.  "Well… I didn't do anything for the first month.  I was honestly a bit of a mess."  He didn't like to remember that time too closely.  "It was so good to be able to do what I wanted to, but I think the way it all ultimately happened really hurt."  Something lightly brushed his hand, and he looked to see her fingers hovering over his.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," she said.

He nodded.  "Maybe we should save the stories of emotional train-wreck Adrien for a time when we know each other better," he suggested, relieved.  "But I can tell you that it wasn't exactly a leap to go from modeling to stripping, which is where I started.  I could do some basic pole work, but nothing too fancy back then."  He shrugged.  "I was used to changing in front of people, so the nudity didn't…  it wasn't new.  And my face and body have always been used to make money or sell things, so…"  He shrugged.

She frowned a little, before pushing past his admittedly unhealthy conditioning.  "Other than picking up pole dancing, and packing on some serious muscles, which really work for you, by the way.  What have you been up to since you went low profile?" she asked, her voice gentle, like she wanted to be careful with him.

"Finding myself."  He took a sip of his coffee.  "Because I had so little control of my life before, I didn't know what I liked or what I even wanted.  I was afraid that if I didn't get out when I did, it would be too late.  That I'd have no option but to stay a puppet."

"And have you found yourself, Adrien?" she asked.  

"I think so."  It came out more as a question than he'd intended.

"Are there any new things you're trying to explore, things you want to try?" she asked.

"Probably, but I don't know what they are."  He grinned, excited to share the next bit.  "I'm going to university in the fall.  I'm like, stupidly excited about it."

"That's wonderful," Marinette said, her encouragement reminding him a bit of Ladybug.  "I **loved** university.  What are you going to study?  Or do you even know yet?"

He gave a helpless shrug.  "Registration isn't for another month.  I'm thinking physics and maybe math, because I really like both of those.  I'm also considering some international relations courses, because I have traveled a lot, and I speak three languages fluently and a few more conversationally."

Marinette gawked at him.  "Oh my god," she whispered.  "You're like a genius or something, aren't you."  She shook her head.  "I'm glad you're getting this opportunity, and honestly, I think it's good you're exploring a bit before making a decision.  I know people who've had to start all over because they didn't take the time to figure out what they really wanted."  She fiddled with the corner of her napkin.  "If there are other things you want to do or try, let me know.  I have a lot of friends who are in a wide range of fields, and I'd be happy to call on them to help you continue your self discovery."

He sighed, feeling a little breathless and terribly happy.  "Umm, thanks.  That's… really nice of you."

She rocked her head from one side to the other.  "I like helping people, and you seem like a good guy."  She needlessly tucked her hair behind her ear again, and he still found it adorable.  "It doesn't sound like things have been fair for you, and if I can help reset that balance, I'd like to."

They both sipped their hot drinks, uncertain what to say and feeling a little awkward in the wake of her sincere words.  "So… um, what's the name of your fashion line?"

"Lady Luck."  She grinned at him.

"That's so **perfect**!"  He wondered if Ladybug knew about her boutique.  "What kinds of clothes do you make."

She shook her head.  "I don't want to talk fashion with you.  You left that world, and for really good reasons."

"Oh my god."  He stared at her.  "Are you real?  How are you this sweet?"

"I grew up in a bakery," she replied, grinning.  She opened her messenger bag and pulled out a spiral bound sketch pad and a cloth bag.  Poking her fingers into the bag, she fished out a large brass colored jingle bell.  "This is a little smaller than Chat Noir's, but I think it's less likely to get in the way."  She held it up to his neck, nodding in satisfaction.  "It's the same shape and design, minus the magic."

"Have you ever met him?" Adrien asked.  "Chat Noir?"

She nodded, giggling.  "Oh yeah."

"There's a story there," he accused.  "Care to share?"

"During the first year that Ladybug and Chat Noir were around, most of my classmates got akumatized," she explained.

"Did you?" he asked, not liking the idea of having fought her.

"I'm the only one of my lycee class to graduate without becoming one of Hawkmoth's victims."  She wrinkled her nose.  "Though I'd seriously like to punch him."

"You and me, both," he said.  "So you got to see Ladybug and Chat Noir a lot, I suppose."

She nodded.  "And I got to work with him once."  Her eyes were a little unfocused as she reminisced.  "One of my classmates had a crush on me, and… well our class bully made fun of him for it.  He turned into Evillustrator."

"Oh yeah," Adrien said, remembering that.  "The evil artist."  He'd gone after Chloe, who Adrien would eventually date and hate, but his real focus had been going out with a girl… Marinette.  He grinned remembering working with her now.  She was so calm under pressure.  If he hadn't been so stupidly crushing on Ladybug, he might not have been so blind.

"I promise, he's a good guy," Marinette said, and he wondered how many of her friends faced discrimination as a result of past akumatization.  It had been a growing problem the last five years or so.  "I guess Ladybug was busy, so I got to work with Chat Noir for a bit."

She'd saved his ass.  And she'd gone on to be just as sweet and wonderful as she'd seemed at the time.  Seriously, who agreed to go out with an akuma to minimize danger to others?  Marinette, of course.  He pulled out his phone and took a selfie with her holding the bell in place.  It was a little smaller, but she was right that the huge one on his hero costume would get in the way.

"I like it," he said, nodding.  His collar really **did** need a bell.  "You want to tell me what it'll cost for you to attach it, or should we talk about your tail designs, first."

She flipped open her sketch book.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be two more chapters, and I have started the next one, so it should be up by the end of the weekend.
> 
> Feel free to stop by my [Tumblr](http://freedom-shamrock.tumblr.com/) for diverse geekery with a heavy emphasis on Miraculous Ladybug.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chat Noir and Ladybug meet up for a routine patrol, and someone lets slip a few things that make their identity obvious.

The early evening rain had shown up just long enough for Adrien to walk Marinette home.  She'd forgotten her umbrella, and it had been nice to extend the not-date with a stroll.  At the door to her building, her kiss on his cheek had left him stupidly speechless.  He was officially smitten, and he was cautiously optimistic that she liked him, too.  She'd promised to text him tomorrow to arrange him coming by with his costume.  By quarter to nine the drizzle had fully let up, and starry gaps were peeking out of the cloudy sky.

Chat leaned against one of the tower's slanted beams, looking out over Paris with a smile.

"You look happy," Ladybug said, lightly touching down next to him.

"I am."  He took a deep breath and slowly let it out, leaning into his best friend as she wrapped an arm around his waist to hug him from the side.

"Good.  I like it when you're happy."  She held up a small white bakery box.  "I brought cookies."

He peeked at the cookies, bright pastels rather than chocolate.  "I see you're in a good mood too."

She laughed.  "Yeah.  I just had coffee with a new friend, and it was nice."

"Date?" he asked, plucking out a cookie.

"I wish," she replied, then shrugged.  "Maybe next time."

"Gotta start small, Milady."  He grinned at her.  "I keep reminding myself that, too.  And maybe this one will work out."

"I wish I had your optimism, Chaton."  She shook her head.  "But… you could be right.  This one seems different from the last several."

"Got some pronouns I can use for this one?" he asked.  Her track record showed no preference.

"Him."  She reached up and ruffled his hair, giggling when he pressed his head into her hand.  "And what has you so happy?"

"I also had a not-date this evening."  He could feel his Plagg-induced cat tendencies kicking in, and he fought the purr on principle.  "She knows I'm a mess, but she still kissed me on the cheek, so I'm hopeful."  He snorted.  "Maybe vehemently hopeful."

"Oh, that's sweet."  Her hand left his hair so she could hug him tightly.  "I hope this one works out for you.  You deserve it."

Once the cookies were gone, they slowly made their way to their next checkpoint.  Gone were the nights where they attempted to patrol the whole city.  They'd mapped the akuma attacks, looking for time and day correlations.  All of them happened in the heart of Paris.  It appeared that Hawkmoth's powers had a limited radius, and he apparently didn't move far from it during the day.  Now they spent time at key sites, observing for trouble, but they were both fully aware that most attacks happened during the day, and that patrol was an excuse for them to hang out.

As they settled near one of Notre Dame's gargoyles, he realized she was humming.  After a moment, he felt his heart catch as he recognized the song.  It was his new lap dance song of choice.  "Uhhh, what are you humming?" he asked.  She could have found it on her own.  They'd found a lot of overlap in music tastes before.  It could just be that.  

"Oh, sorry."  She smiled sheepishly.  "It's a new favorite, and it's kind of stuck in my head."

He nodded.  "What song is it?"

"It's Imposters.  By this band out of Glasgow.  Um… the Fratelli's, I think."  She grinned.  "It's kind of about hiding behind masks, so it's totally appropriate for us."

He nodded.  "I think I've heard it.  Is it getting airtime?"

She shook her head.  "I heard it at a club."   His enhanced eyes picked up the blush in her cheeks.  "Ummm.  I don't know if you heard about this, but there's a new strip club that opened up about two months ago, called Miraculous.  The dancers are all akuma themed."

"Oh.  I… may have, uh, heard of it."  She knew.  There was no way she didn't.

"Been there a time or two, have you?" she teased with a happy laugh, bumping his shoulder with hers and then looking out into the city.

"Maaaybe?"  But if she knew, why wasn't she more shy or weird or something?  It had been eight years since they agreed to keep their identities secret.  He would have expected her to be almost as freaked out as he was.

"Don't blame you," she said casually.  "I was just there with a friend for the first time, and I  **highly** recommend it."

He discretely cleared his throat.  Maybe she hadn't figured him out and was mentioning it because the theme was so very  **them** .  "Yeah?"  Was there any way he'd worked the night she'd been there?  Had they both been there and failed to recognize each other?

"The Chat Noir dancer is phenomenal," she said with a sigh.

Oh god.  She'd seen him.  Seen him and not even realized it was him, despite his outfit.  "So… you're saying he was the cat's meow?"

She giggled.  "Very much yes."

He took a deep breath, positive his brain was going to implode.  Ladybug saw him working on the pole and  **liked** it.  He had no clue what to do with that information.  He'd had an intense crush on her early in their career, but it was a hopeless thing.  It had long since been shelved in favor of friendship, and friends did not ogle each other.  He was sure that was a thing.

"You didn't happen to help them with their marketing, did you?" she asked, turning to him abruptly.  "Their catchphrases just sound so much like things you'd say."

He grinned and placed one hand on his chest.  "Can't lie to you, Bugaboo.  I  **did** help with some of that stuff."  The owners had given him a hefty bonus for helping with their launch and image details.

"I'm particularly fond of the pawramedics."  She laughed again.

Pushing away his panic, and the odd disappointment that she hadn't somehow  **seen** him, he nodded.  "So it was a good time?"

She nodded eagerly.

"Got any favorite dancers?" he asked.

"Definitely Chat."  Did she sound… breathless?  Just talking about it?

"What's so great about him?" he asked.  "Need to know if I should crib his moves or anything."

"He reminded me of you."  She turned and gently poked him in the center of his chest.  "He was very sweet, really kind.  And, if you want to talk about stealing moves, he had your walk down pat."  When he nodded, she continued.  "He was one of two pole dancers when we were there, and… he's got this style that's graceful and athletic and… wow."

"Wow?" he repeated, feeling stupid.

"Very wow," she agreed.  "He looks so happy, he's obviously having fun, which I've gotta tell you is so much sexier than the apathy and fake arousal a lot of dancers go with.  And he's strong enough he can take a guest up on the pole with him."  She shrugged.  "Sounds like he doesn't do it often, but…"  She shook her head.

He'd only taken one person up on the pole in the last three weeks, aside from when he was working with other dancers learning how to use it.  "Looked pretty cool, huh?  Glad to hear he's doing me proud."

She giggled.  "My friend took video, or I'd have no idea what it looked like."  She beamed at him.  "The kitty was dancing for me, so I'm the one who got the special treat."

Why wasn't he hyperventilating and screaming?  He probably owed Plagg for that, actually.

"I hope it's not too weird that I found the dancer masquerading as you insanely hot."

He let out a noise that he hoped sounded noncommittal.

"I kinda want to pin him to a wall to see if he's got your purr down, too."  She sighed, happily.

He stared at her.  His Lady.  His very best friend in the whole world was none other than his adorable Princess.  And she wanted to go to town on him.  It took two tries to get his voice working.  "You going to ask him out?"  He crossed his fingers desperately hoping.

She wrinkled her nose.

"Oh," he said quietly. He should have expected it.  "Don't want to date a stripper?"

She shook her head.  "Don't say it that way, please."  Her voice managed to be both gentle yet unyielding.  "He's more than  **just** a stripper.  Anyone who works there is.  But I'll admit it does complicate things."

"You think you'll get jealous?" he asked.  It just didn't seem like her.  She could be fiercely loyal and protective, but he'd never seen her jealous of anything.

She snorted.  "Noooo.  It's just... I have to be careful to ask him out at a time and place that won't make him think I'm just propositioning him, or that I assume he's a hooker."

He gawked at her.  "So you don't just want to sleep with him."

"Of course not!"  She backtracked.  "I mean.  There's nothing wrong with hooking up, as long as everyone's okay with it, and you're safe.  And, yes, I will freely admit that I would love to get Adrien in bed."  She leaned against his shoulder.  "Oh god, Chat.  His skin is so soft."  She closed her eyes a moment, looking pleased and at peace with whatever she was imagining.  "But he's a person, and he seems really nice.  Maybe a little lonely.  Kind of a dork.  And, I'd like to get to know him."  She held out her hands as if to indicate she was out of ideas.  "I think we click.  And I don't want to mess it up."

As they continued through patrol, he realized he could see Marinette in Ladybug.  The smiles, the laughs, and the way she just cared for people.  It was all there.  He felt stupid for having to have it pointed out.  He also realized that he needed to come clean.  They hadn't discussed identities in years, and they'd never come up with a contingency for something like this.

"I have a question for you, Bugaboo," he said, landing next to her at their last observation point.  His mind was still a bit of a mess, but he'd reconciled that the gorgeous woman he was hoping to date, was actually his superhero partner.

"You've gone all serious, Chaton.  What's up?"  She turned to face him.

"If you had a friend who had a secret, one they didn't share with anyone, and you accidentally figured it out, what would you do?"  He wasn't going to be able to keep this under wraps, he was certain of it, but he needed her perspective.

"How big a secret?" she asked.

"Huge."  He was surprised she hadn't already caught on, but then, he'd asked her for help with social rules in the past.

She nodded.  "I hate to say it, but you should probably tell them."  She sounded sympathetic.

"How?"

"Definitely do it in private, someplace your friend is comfortable."  She took his hand and gently rubbed his forearm.  "Try to stay calm and explain what happened.  It doesn't hurt to apologize, either."  She held up two fingers.  "Be sure to reassure them that their secret is safe with you, and be prepared to give them space if they need it."

He didn't want space between them.  But she was right.  He nodded.  "Thanks."

When they concluded patrol, he waited about five minutes before heading toward Marinette's place.  He sat down on the roof across from hers and fished out his cell phone.  Taking a deep breath, he texted her.

_ Princess, you up?  I really need to talk to you. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who were wondering, Chat's pole routine is done to [Something Just Like This](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-NTWXdrX-qc) by the Chainsmokers and Coldplay (the unofficial video reminds me of Chat and Mari's bad and good luck). His lap dance music is done to [Imposters (Little by Little)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aqqiY5ks2XE) by the Fratellis (the official video has the version I'm thinking of, but the video is more sad).


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rest of that reveal plays out.

Marinette looked at her cell phone.  "Oh!" she smiled, suddenly giddy.

"What is it Marinette?" Tikki asked.

"It's Adrien.  He wants to talk…"  His message seemed more urgent than that.  "I hope he's okay."  She tapped to reply.

_ Yeah.  What's up? _

It was barely thirty seconds before her phone chimed again.   _ Go out on your balcony. _  After a moment he followed up with,  _ Please. _

"Hm."  Marinette tugged on the light silk robe Alya had given her for her last birthday.  It wasn't quite warm enough to go out in her shortie PJs.  Had Adrien put something on her balcony?  That seemed unlikely.  She was on the fourth floor.  Maybe something in the parking lot below?  She took a deep breath.  She was over-thinking and over-reacting.  They'd only had the one not-date, and she needed to stop thinking of him as an extension of her partner and best friend.

She slid open the door and stepped out on her tiny balcony.  It was the one splurge she'd made in her apartment search.  She looked around and tried not to be disappointed to find it empty.  Stepping forward, she rested one hand on the railing and looked out and around.  She glanced at her cell phone and felt a familiar breeze followed by the sound of magically light booted feet touching down.  Her head snapped up, and there was Chat Noir, leaning in the corner of the railing, looking at her.

"Oh."  That was unexpected.  Why was he here?  Was there something wrong?  Had he figured her out?  Oh god, he  **had** .  That whole line of questioning about secrets at the end of patrol.  How had she not realized he meant her?  "Chat Noir, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"  She wasn't sure how she managed to get that out sounding mostly normal.

He grinned, and it was oddly tentative, reminding her of Adrien.  "Hey there, Princess."

She gasped, staring at him for a moment.  Oh fuck.  It all made sense.  It all fit.  No wonder they reminded her of each other.  "Adrien?" His name came out as more of a sigh.

He bowed.  "At your service."  Straightening up, he met her eyes.  "My Lady."  It was the same silky voice he'd greeted her with at the club.

She slapped a hand over her mouth while the other pointed at him, still clutching her cell phone.

"I know the feeling," he said, catching her hand and phone in both of his.  "Realizing that I'd danced for you, that you were the young woman I was hoping might like me enough to date, when we were on top of Notre Dame was nearly more than my kitty heart could take."

She slowly uncovered her mouth and reached out to rub under his chin.  He closed his eyes and hummed.  It hadn't been an act at the club.  It had been part of Chat Noir's inherited kwami tendencies.  "Oh," she whispered.  "It's you.  It's really you."

He nodded, kissing her hand before releasing it.

She felt so stupid for not seeing it earlier.  His club persona practically screamed authenticity.  He was her best friend, and she hadn't  _ seen _ him.  Her eyes stung and she pointed to the door.  "Can we?"

"Do you want to take it inside, or do you want me to go and give you time to…"

She cut him off, grabbing his hand and pulling him into her apartment.  She couldn't quite get the words she needed out, but he seemed to understand when she nudged him toward the couch.  She went to the kitchenette and pulled out a plate of her parents' cookies. Chocolate chip, this time, because this definitely called for some chocolate.  As she gathered glasses and milk, she kept glancing at him, the mess in her mind like a freshly shaken snow globe.  But as the moments passed, it calmed and the chaos settled to the bottom.  The concerns about how this could happen and whether it would hurt him or them gradually drifted to rest.  The realization that she  _ knew  _ him, that she now had a real name and face for her best friend, and that his adolescence had truly sucked floated away.  And by the time she was setting his glass of milk in front of him, all she could see was him.  Adrien.  Chat Noir.  The most wonderful person she'd ever known.

"You want to detransform?" she asked, sitting next to him.

"Is it okay?  I didn't want to presume."  He fiddled awkwardly with his claws.

She nodded.  "You're my Chat Noir.  My Adrien Bartholome."  She cupped his face with her hands and leaned her forehead on his.  " **You** are always welcome here."

He closed his eyes, and with a flash of green, he was sitting there in his navy shorts and red polo from earlier.  When he opened his eyes again, his hands came up to her cheeks, mirroring her.

She didn't look away from him when Tikki came out from wherever she was hiding.  "Plagg!  We can catch up, and do introductions later."  From the corner of her eye, she saw her kwami collide with a tiny floating black cat before dragging them off toward her sewing room.

"Heh," Adrien chuckled.  "They are  **so** not interested in us right now."  After a moment, he spoke, his voice tentative.  "Can I hug you, Princess?"

She nodded, relaxing as his arms came around her and pulled her onto his lap.

"Are you okay?" he asked as he reached to slide one hand down the back of her head, resting it on her neck.

"Yeah."  It had always been nice to be on the receiving end of his hugs, but this one was her favorite.  Somehow, without the suits between them, he felt so much closer.  "How about you?  You got a bit… odd at the end of patrol."

He chuckled.  "It's not every day you find out that your best friend and superhero partner is the gorgeous woman you're badly flirting with."

Without moving off his lap, Marinette sat up.  "I happen to like your flirting a lot, thank you very much.  Or did you  **not** notice how much I talked about you during patrol."  Oh god.  The things she'd said.  Her face burned.

"Knowing I'm both Adrien and Chat doesn't change that?" he asked, worry creeping in to his voice.

Marinette shook her head.  "Are you..."  She struggled to remember his exact words.  "Are you still vehemently hopeful that I'm interested in you?"

He nodded.  "Maybe upgrade that to something stronger than vehement, actually," he admitted sheepishly.

He was so delightfully warm under her and between her thighs, she had to fight the urge to squirm closer.  "Want me to ease your mind on that front?" she asked, slipping one hand into his ridiculously soft hair.  

His eyes fluttered closed.  "Yeah," he mumbled.  

She bent down and breathed softly over his ear.  "I'm  **extremely** interested," she whispered, delighted by the explosive exhalation he responded with.  "You okay, Kitty?" she asked.

"Yeah," he mumbled, sounding only half there.  He struggled to catch his breath.  "It's just… You  **know** me.  You care about me… You said you wanted to pin me to a wall... and make me purr."  He gasped as she breathed hard on his neck.  "And I… can't stop..."

"You like that idea?" she asked.

"Fuck, yes."  He let out a low chuckle.

"Is it okay for me to nuzzle you?" she asked, stopping herself just before she could do so without consent.

He met her eyes, his face serious and his pupils huge.  "You can do  **anything** you want to me," he insisted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 7 is all smut all the time. It contains no real plot. If smut is not your thing, you can skip to chapter 8 for the rest of the story.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains graphic sex and no real plot. If this isn't your thing, feel free to skip to chapter 8 for the rest of the story.

Pressing her face into his neck, Marinette embraced his warm and vaguely spicy scent.  "You smell nice, Kitty."  While she nuzzled him, much as he'd done to her at the club, she slid her palms down his arms to find his hands.  Slowly, so he could pull away if he wanted to, she raised his hands to the back of the couch, beside his head.  "Is this too much, too fast?"

"Nooooo."  His response was a drawn out soft whine.  "You're my best friend.  We know each other better than most married couples know each other.  That my Princess is also my Lady is so perfect."  He faltered, gasping again when she pressed an open mouthed kiss to his neck.  He  **had** said she could do anything, after all.

"Your soft skin tastes nice," she murmured, wondering how long it had been since someone who truly cared about him touched him like this.  Actually, probably never.  Based on their post date and post hook-up patrols, his romantic life consisted of one unhealthy borderline-abusive relationship and a trail of occasional one night stands and uncomfortable dates.  "So you like the idea of being pinned to the wall, Kitten?"  She pressed his wrists against the back of the couch.

He arched against her, letting out a stifled moan.

"You like this?" she asked, torn between the desire to hold him down and the urge to run her hands all over his absurdly sexy body.  Her kitty needed pettings, it was obvious. 

He nodded, looking at her with heavily lidded eyes.

"You ever let anyone tie you up?" she asked.

He shook his head.  "Never trusted anyone enough."  When she lessened the pressure on his wrists he quickly added.  "I trust you, though."

She grinned at him.  "Keep your hands there."  She patted them, then let go to unfasten the sash on her robe.  She held up the wide strip of silk for him to see, then went to work on one wrist.  She kept two fingers against his skin and under the fabric as she carefully wrapped it around his wrist.  "If it's too tight, if it starts to hurt or go numb, you'll tell me right away.  Do you understand?"  She knotted that end, then ran enough of a tether behind his head to avoid putting his shoulders in a bad position.

He nodded quickly.

"I need you to repeat what I just said, so I know for sure you understand," she said, holding his second wrist but not binding it.  "This isn't optional."

He closed his eyes and replied.  "I will tell you if it hurts or goes numb,"

"Such a good Kitty," she murmured, brushing the silk against his cheek.  Based on what she'd known about his life, and how she was now able to fit it all together, he needed as much praise as she could give him.  She carefully bound his other wrist, finishing off with a knot.  "You're in charge," she explained.

"I thought  **you** were in charge."  He glanced toward one wrist and smirked at her.

"Oh, no, Kitty.  I bend to  **your** need."  She cupped his face, her thumbs running over his cheekbones, right where the edge of his mask usually lay.  "If something is uncomfortable, you tell me.  If you need me to stop everything, you tell me.  If you want me to do something, you can tell me.  I won't laugh, and if I like the suggestion, I'll try it."  She could see in his face he wanted something, but was reluctant to voice it.  "What is it, Kitty?"

He shook his head, his expression uncertain.

"You're allowed to ask," she said gently, slipping one hand into his hair again.  "Encouraged, even."

She felt his chest rise slowly and purposefully.  "Can you… would you…"  He couldn't quite get the words out.

"Oh," she whispered sadly, leaning in to touch their foreheads together again.  "You've never been permitted to ask for what you want, have you."

He shook his head.

"My sweet, sweet Kitty," she murmured.  "You can always ask me.  I promise."

He arched off the couch to writhe against her again.

"No, no, no," she chided gently.  "You can't ask with your body.  Not right now.  I need words."

He whined, a desperate thing that broke her heart..

"Because you've always been such a wonderful Kitty, I'll help you."  She sat up and looked at him.  They hadn't even kissed, yet he looked utterly wrecked under her.  It was surprisingly hot.  "Repeat after me.  My Lady," she started, loving the way his long-standing nickname for her worked in this situation.

"My Lady," he whispered.

"Please kiss my cheek," she prompted.

"Please kiss my cheek," he repeated.

She beamed at him.  "Gladly."  She pressed a trail of kisses, her tongue flicking out to taste his skin, across his cheek to his ear.  She nipped his earlobe with her lips.  "What now?" she asked.  "Want to try again?"

"My Lady."  Despite his heavy uneven breathing, his voice sounded so good to her ears.  "Please touch me."  There was only a brief hesitation.

"Do you have any requests on the type of touch, or the places I should stay clear of?"  She asked, holding up her hands and wiggling her fingers.

He shook his head.  "Please, My Lady."  Oh god.  He was definitely begging.  "Touch me."

She settled her hands on his shoulders, surprised when that alone made him close his eyes and shudder.  She dragged her hands down his chest, smiling when he gasped and opened his eyes.  She lifted the hem of his polo and placed her hands on his belly.  His warm skin was like brushed cotton, over his firm muscles.  She closed her eyes for a moment and let her palms slide over his abdomen and up his chest.  She started with general caresses, with no particular aim.  He'd had so little touch in his life.  Then she moved her fingertips to trace his muscles and stroke toward more sensitive areas.  She wanted his skin pressed against hers, with nothing but sweat between them.

"My Kitty is so soft."  She loved seeing what her positive words did to him when combined with touch.  She was definitely going to be doing this again.  Whenever he wanted her to.  She crouched down to slide her arms fully under his shirt, her cheek flush against his stomach.  "I love touching you."  She pressed her open mouth to his side, at his waist, amused when the muscles bunched.  She sucked lightly on his skin as she moved her way across his body.  She let her fingers glide up to circle his nipples while her lips followed a path to the button of his shorts.

As she slipped her tongue under his waist-band, he whined and raised his hips to push against her.  There might have been words buried in his needy moan, but she couldn't distinguish them.  She slid her hands out from under his shirt and knelt in front of him on the floor.  "I have a couple questions Kitty," she said, running both hands up and down the sides of his hips.  "Are you able to answer?"

He nodded, gulping in a few big breaths.  "Yes, My Lady."

"When were you last tested?"  

"Three,uh, four weeks ago," he said, then shook his head.  "I haven't been with anyone in nearly three months."  Oh yeah.  She remembered that one.  He'd gone out with a woman three times, and she'd confessed, after an evening of average sex, that she was just using him to make her ex jealous.  As Ladybug cuddled her disappointed best friend on a Paris rooftop, she'd wanted to find this woman and hang her from the Eiffel Tower by her toes for a bit.

"And everything was okay?" she asked.

"Yeah."  He stared down at her.  "Should I ask you the same thing?"

She grinned at him.  "I like my safe Kitty."  She ran her thumb over his nipple, then pinched it gently in reward.  He closed his eyes and inhaled slowly before meeting her eyes again.  "It's been a little longer for me on both fronts, but same result."

He nodded.

"Ready for the next question?"  She drew her hands back down his chest, tucking the tips of her fingers in his waistband.

"Yes, My Lady."

"May I take off your shorts?"  She fiddled with the button.  "I'm thinking I'd like to give you some special attention, maybe kiss you in some new places."

"Yes,  **please** ."  The last word was half moan.

"And you're still comfortable?"

His lips twitched in a crooked smile.  "That's not how I'd describe it."  He winked, then followed up with, "but no pain or numbness, and I like it just fine, thank you."

She giggled a little as she unbuttoned his shorts.  This was a lot like his dancing, totally sexy, but with a strong dose of fun.  Actually, it was how he behaved as Chat Noir, too.  Grasping his zipper's tab in two fingers, she gently pressed against him as she pulled it down, teasing the bulge beneath her hand.

"Aaaaah."  His hips came off the couch to push him more firmly against her.  "You're so mean, My Lady," he whispered, breathless.

Taking advantage of his position, she pulled his shorts down to pile at his ankles.  "You know you love it."  He was wearing bright blue bikini briefs that looked extremely uncomfortable just now.  She assessed for a moment then switched gears briefly to assault his shoe laces.  The shoes were in her way, and she just wanted them off his feet and out of the way.  The brief lull gave him the opportunity to catch his breath, and she glanced up to see him intently watching her.

"You're not going to regret this tomorrow, are you?" he asked.

Abandoning his other shoe and half removed shorts, she crawled back up into his lap, holding his eyes the whole way.  He was a model and an actor, but he'd fully taken off all his masks for her.  His fear that he was making a terrible mistake, was right there for her to see.

"My only regret is that it took me seeing you outside the suit, to realize I want you like this."  She pushed both hands into his hair.  "Chat Noir has been my best friend for so long.  He's seen parts of me I don't ever show anyone else.  I know him equally well, and trust him with my life."  She kissed the center of his forehead, and then the tip of his nose.  "Adrien was the serendipitous encounter that flared quickly into interest that seemed stronger that it should have been, until I realized I was right to treat him as an extension of my precious Kitty."  She kissed his cheek, then just to the edge of his mouth.

He turned his head and chased her lips with his.  When he caught her, his tongue traced the bottom of her lower lip, and it was her turn to gasp.  He gently caught her lip in his teeth and tugged lightly, encouraging her to move closer without needing his hands or words.  She sealed her mouth over his, taking over the kiss and letting her tongue in to caress his.  She was thorough, but not entirely gentle as she became familiar with this part of him.  Slowly, she ceded control to him, very much wanting to be on the receiving end of his exploration.  His deft touch triggered a flurry of butterflies in her belly, and a growing heat in her core.

When their lips parted, she slowly moved back to the floor.  "You still want this, Kitty?  Remember, you can tell me to stop any time."

"Please don't stop."  He let his head flop against the back of her couch.

She plucked at the waistband of his underwear, letting it lightly snap him.  "These seem a bit tight.  Want to slip into something more comfortable?"

"Yes."  He smirked up at her ceiling.  "Especially if that something is you."

She let out a surprised laugh.  "Goodness, Kitty."  She fanned at her face.  "You're extra spicy tonight, aren't you."

His abs tightened gloriously and shook as he laughed.  While he was absorbed by mirth, she peeled down his underwear, tickling his bottom to get him to lift it enough to get them off.  She reached up to play with the sparse blond hair below his navel, then lowered her head to nuzzle the inside of his thigh.

"You are a very well groomed kitty."  He wasn't fully shaved or waxed, but he either had a naturally aesthetically pleasing distribution of hair from his waist to his feet, or he had some ridiculous regimen.

"I had strategic laser treatment back when I was modeling."  He shrugged.  "It's worked out well for stripping and pole work, since hair is currently fashionable on men, but only to a certain degree."  He rolled his eyes.

"Would this be a good time to warn you that I don't do landscaping?" she asked.  It hadn't been worth it to accommodate the few guys who found body hair a turn-off.

"Pffft."  He giggled again.  "Landscaping," he muttered, then shook his head.  "I've always found it odd that some people want their female partners to look like they haven't hit puberty."

"Excellent."  She attached her lips to his thigh, sucking lightly.  She nosed his soft skin.  "I won't leave any marks."  She nipped and licked a leisurely path up the inside of his leg, slowly migrating her hand lower as she went.  When her fingers encountered a thicker patch of hair, she gently traced circles, twisting through the coarse strands.  She could feel his breathing pick up again, and she hummed happily.  She wanted him worked up, but she had no intention of being mean.  She navigated around the base of his erection, carefully not touching it.

He twitched, letting out a helpless little moan.  "Pleeeease, My Lady."  God he was hot when he was begging, fueling the wet heat between her own legs.

"What do you want my precious Kitty?"  She dragged her tongue through the little valley between his thigh and scrotum.  He squirmed and whined.  "Tell me what you need, Adrien."

"Fuck," he gasped, and from her vantage point she could see him struggling against his bonds.

"Is that your request?" she asked, just shy of giggling again.  "Because that's on the agenda, but later."

"Touch me," he pleaded, his whole body tight and desperate.  

"Hmmm.  That's not very specific," she noted, licking him again.  He let out an inarticulate groan.  "But you're still new at asking, and I think I have a pretty good idea  **where** you want me to touch you."  She inched closer and cupped his sack with the hand that had been teasing him.  "Is this a good place to touch you?"

Rising up on her knees, she could more fully appreciate his vigorous nods.

"Ooh."  She redirected her gaze to his cock, it's rosy head bobbing along with his full body ragged breathing.  " **This** is very nice."  She reached out, but hesitated before she could touch him.  "May I?"

His whimper of response was devastating.  

Leaning in, she pressed his erection against her cheek.  "Your skin is so soft here," she purred.  She ran her tongue along the ridge on the underside.  He went still, holding his breath until she reached the tip, then he let out all the air at once.  "I do need you breathing, Kitty," she said gently.  "I don't want you to hurt yourself."

"Ngh," was as articulate as he could get at the moment.

When he shut his eyes, she got the perfect idea.  Even more than touch, her sweet partner needed love.  He'd had precious little of it in his life.  "Look at me Kitty," she coaxed.  "This is where you want me, right?"

He nodded.

"Good."  She kissed the tip lightly.  "But I want you to do more than just feel me here, okay?  I want you to watch me suck you off.  I want you to see that it's me doing this to you, making you feel good."  His cheeks filled with a beautiful pink.  "Can you do that."

He nodded, managing a very rough, "yeah."

Without further ado, she closed her lips around the head of his cock.  She swirled her tongue around a couple of times before nudging it against the roof of her mouth to suck hard a few times, delighted when he whined.  She bobbed down, taking him as far into her mouth as she could without gagging, and wrapped her fingers around the base, so she could show it attention too.  She established a rhythm, her hand and mouth synchronized as she moved up and down.  Periodically she paused to suck on the head again, her hand keeping the pace.

He gasped and moaned, but kept his eyes on her.  Every time she changed up, he let out an honest to god mewl.  It was a delight to find someone so responsive to her.  Her free hand came up to cradle his scrotum, adding a gentle massage to the mix.

"S-so close."  The words sounded like he had to force them out.  She appreciated the warning but ignored it.  "'M gonna… Fuck!"  His upper body lurched forward curving him over her, his hands clutching at his hair as his hot essence spurted into her mouth.  "My Lady… my Princess… ng-ah!"  His inarticulate babbling cut off and he dropped, boneless, to the couch.

Marinette turned and snatched a napkin off the table to spit into.  She was not a swallower, and honestly, sometimes the taste made her gag, but it had been worth the risk.  Dropping the napkin into the trash, she crawled back onto his lap.  She picked out the second knot and unbound his wrist, feeling his fingers for warmth.  They were still a nice pink color.  Once unwrapped, she gently rubbed and kissed his wrist.  Then she moved to the other one.  By the time she'd finished tending to it, his eyes were open and watching her again.

"Hey," she said gently, cupping his cheek.  "How you feeling?"

"Soooo goooood," he mumbled.  His arms came around her.  "C'mere, you."  He pulled her to his chest, nuzzling her neck.  "That was the best thing ever."

"You deserve to feel good."  One hand was in his hair again.  She gasped as his open mouth latched on to her neck.

"I want to take care of you now," he murmured, kissing his way up her neck.  "You interested in that?"  His hands were on her back, slowly moving and gently holding her to him.

She nodded.  "Very, very interested."

"Do you have any preference where we do this?" he asked.  "I don't want to make a mess of your couch."

She'd already made a mess of her underwear, so he had a valid point.  "Yeah.  Good thinking."  She pulled away and stood up, one hand extended to him.

He looked down at his feet, grinned, and quickly pushed off the shoe, followed by the shorts and underwear still hooked around his ankle.  He took her hand and stood up.

It was odd that he was still wearing that polo.  "Maybe lose the shirt," she suggested.

He let go of her hand to reach up and slowly unbutton it.  He reached back with one hand, grasping the collar and pulling it over his head in one smooth movement.  It shouldn't have been sexy.  "Oh god.  I want to always watch you take off your shirts.  Is that how you always do it."

He laughed.  "I  **am** a stripper, remember?"

"I've only seen your pole work."  She shook her head.  "But apparently you're fucking amazing at both."  She took his hand and led him to her bedroom.  She released him at the doorway.  "Wait here a sec."  Walking carefully in the dark room, she found her bedside table and turned on the low light.  She fished out a string of condoms and the lube she didn't think she was going to need at this point, but preferred to have available.  When she looked up, he was still standing in her doorway, hesitant or awaiting her invitation.

She gave him a soft smile.  "You want to come in?"  She gestured to the tidy little bedroom.

He padded silently over to her, his feet not making any detectable sound as they moved over the battered wood floor.  Reaching out, he lightly placed one finger under her ear, then slowly drew it along the underside of her jaw, under her chin, and to the other side.  "May I have the privilege of undressing you, Princess?"  His voice was a little lower than usual and it did delightful things to her heart rate.

"Yes, please."  She nodded.

His smile was so happy, free of any mask.  "And do you have any caveats or cautions for me?"  He pinched the shoulder seams of her robe and gently peeled it down her back.  

She wiggled her hands to let the silk drop to the floor and shook her head.  "Normally I'm flinchy about anyone getting too close to my earrings, but with you, that's not a concern."

He bent and nipped gently at the edge of her earlobe.

Squeaking in surprise, her hands darted out to grab onto him, keeping her stable, and him near.  She'd never let other lovers near her ears, so she was completely unprepared for the jolt of pleasure his touch shot straight to her belly.  His skin was warm under her palms, and she needed to be closer.  To feel him with her full body.  She stepped in to press herself against him, careful not to dislodge his mouth.

His arms slipped around her as he continued his delicious assault on her ear, moving from teeth, to lips, to tongue.  The wet heat combined with this apparent new kink, and she let out a tiny breathless whine, her balance going unsteady.  He moved on to her neck, nuzzling with his lips and nose, a chuckle barely audible.

"Oh," he murmured.  "Poor Princess didn't know she was sensitive there.  And it's off limits to everyone… except me."  He hovered over her ear, caressing it with his warm breath.  "Guess I'll have to take advantage of that."

"Yes, please," she replied, tilting her head a little in invitation.

His big hands slid down her back, and one at a time eased under her tank top.  He nosed her ear.  "You have such soft skin."  His palm dragged against her spine to rest between her shoulder blades, and he took her earlobe into his mouth.

"Ah!"  It was too much and not enough all at the same time.  It had been forever since she'd wanted someone this badly.  It was only the knowledge that he still needed a little recovery from his orgasm, that kept her from pushing him onto the bed and fucking him silly, with no regard for preliminaries.  She tried to press herself closer to him.

He let go of her ear with a chuckle.  "We need to move this to the bed, Princess."  He pulled her tank top up and over her head, her arms coming up to cooperate without conscious thought.  "I'm not sure I can focus on balancing us while I'm loving you."

Trying to focus, she took a deep breath, fully infused with his scent, and stepped back.  She turned down the covers on her double bed, then looked up at him.  Reaching up, she slipped her hand into the hair at the back of his head, and she gave a little pull.

He bent easily, his open mouth capturing hers.  He lifted her off her feet, his hands moving to cup her ass as she eagerly wrapped her legs around his waist.  Without breaking the kiss, he switched his hold on her to one arm tight around her.  She felt herself tipped as he bent forward, but she knew he wouldn't drop her.  She rocked her hips, seeking friction against his abdomen while he crawled over her bed.  Then her head was on a pillow and his weight was settling on her.  God it felt good to be held down by his body.  There was something so right about it, it was almost as if she'd been waiting her whole life for this.

His lips left hers, only to trail over her jaw to her neck, where he sucked lightly on her skin, enough to make her mindless with bliss, but not so much that he'd leave marks.  He nipped her earlobe again. "Gah!"  She arched against him, her hardened nipples pressing against the soft skin of his chest.  

Adrien pushed himself up on his elbows, and admired her.  "Does my Princess have some needs I can tend to?"

She nodded, panting.  "Please, Kitty… Adrien."  

He bent and closed his lips around one of her nipples, tugging lightly.  "Am I your Kitty?" he asked, grazing his teeth gently over the turgid peak of her breast.

"Yes," she moaned, tightening her legs around him.  "My Kitty.  Mine."  He rewarded each of her possessive claims on him with a firmer tug.  "Always mine.  Mine-mine-mine-ngh!"

His nimble fingers took over for his mouth, caressing, circling, and tweaking as he gently pressed his forehead to hers.  "Your Kitty is fond of cream," he murmured.  "May I have some?"   He kissed her cheek.  "May I taste you, Princess."

Heat rushed over her chest and cheeks.  "Fuck yes."  She dropped her feet to her mattress as fast as she could.  Grabbing his face, she kissed him urgently.  "Please, Kitty.  Please."

He pushed himself to his knees between her thighs.  When her hands moved to the waistband of her shorts, he caught them kissing each on the palm, with a light flick of his tongue.  "Nuh, uh.  I get to undress you.  You said so."  He tucked his fingers into her waistband and gradually moved toward her feet, dragging her shorts and underwear down.  He winked and tossed them over his shoulder.  As he moved back up the bed, he paused by her knees.   He leaned down and kissed the inside of her knee, lowering himself to the mattress.  His hot kisses slowly inched up the inside of her thigh.

She let out a frustrated whine.  "Kitty, please.  I need more.  Stop teasing."

He lifted his head, his gorgeous green eyes, half-lidded and utterly sexy.  "Oh.  You can dish but can't take?" he taunted gently.

"I can," she insisted.  "But not right now."  It had been too long since she'd had a lover, and longer still since she'd had one who was particularly good.  "Tying you up and wrecking you was so, so hot.  You make the best noises.  You're so gorgeous when you squirm.  But I didn't get to come like you did."

He tapped one finger against his chin.  "You're right.  I think I underestimated that… uh activity's impact on you."  He grinned.  He reached up and gently stroked the mound of black hair at the apex of her legs.  "Maybe next time we'll start with you, so I can tease more."

She nodded, delighted that he was already contemplating future romps with her.  

He lowered himself again, and all she could see was his messy mop of blonde hair, right where she wanted him.  His lips and nose nuzzled her labia, his tongue darting out to caress her slit.  She moaned, half embarrassed by the volume of the sound, and half completely beyond caring.  His fingers parted her, allowing his tongue to slip over and between her folds.  Gasping, her fingers sought purchase somewhere.  Without letting up, he caught one of her seeking hands and guided it to his head.

"I'll hurt you," she whined.  "I don't have good control, when I… ah!"  Her hands tightened, one clenching in the sheet beneath her and the other in his hair.  Yup.  No need to worry about him being unable to find her clit.

He patted her hand reassuringly, before releasing it, clearly unwilling to stop his delightful assault to discuss it.  He wrapped an arm around her thigh, stilling the involuntary rocking of her hips and pulling himself closer.  The touch of his fingers tracing her entrance made her gasp.  He slid one finger easily into her, and she felt her breathing stagger.  After a couple of experimental pumps, a second finger joined the first.  Once they were seated fully within her, he crooked his fingers, deftly fondling the spot inside so many men seemed unaware of and too many women  tended to neglect.

She'd utterly lost control of whatever incoherent babble was coming out of her mouth, reduced as she was, to a tight ball of want.  He fluttered his fingers in time with the strokes of his tongue.  Oh, god she was so close.  She wanted it so bad.  He touched her just right and she snapped, letting out a strangled sob as pleasure washed over her.  His fingers and tongue coaxed her through the onslaught, ceasing only when her grip on his hair relaxed.  She was still twitching a little when she felt him gather her into his arms.  His hands gently caressed her back and arms, soothing and grounding her.

She burrowed her face into his neck, and he chuckled, a warm, happy sound.  "That seemed like a big one, Princess."

"Yeah," she mumbled, still breathless.

"Can we just stay like this for a bit?"  Her Kitty sounded uncertain, even nervous.

"I'll fall 'sleep," she cautioned.  Her whole body felt relaxed in a way it hadn't in far too long.

"That's okay," he promised.  "This has all been so perfect and wonderful, and honestly what I need right now is to hold you and reassure myself this isn't a dream."

She smiled against his skin.  "Isss not a dream, Kitty."  She had just enough energy to hug him.

"Is it okay if I stay the night?"  His lips brushed her head as he spoke.

"Please stay."  She leaned back just enough to turn her head and meet his eyes.  "I'll make you breakfast."

"You know what happens if you feed stray cats, right?"  His grin was teasing, but she could read the concern there now.

"That's my plan, silly."  She reached up and gently booped his nose.  "You're mine, remember?"  She moved her hand to his cheek.  "And I want to keep you."

He kissed her softly.  "I'm yours for as long as you want me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long. My brain wanted to go into all the details, and that takes longer to write. Hope it's worth the wait.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miraculous has a surprise guest.

Adrien was just finishing getting ready backstage, when he noticed a definite uptick in the volume from the audience.  It was still happy and screamy, but a bit more than he expected from Evillustrator's performance.  He draped his lovely new collar around his neck, tingling a little with excitement and joy about wearing it for the first time tonight.  Marinette had made it for him, and when she put in on him last night, there was definite subtext.  She had absolutely no problem with him continuing to work as a dancer.  He belonged to her regardless of who he danced for.

"Ohmigod, Adrien?"  The owner and working manager burst into the back stage area.

"Yeah?  What's up Robert?"  He pushed back the black curtain that gave his closet sized cubicle a little privacy.  "I'm good to go.  You need me out there?"

"Oh god no."  The slight brown-haired man shook his head.  "I need you to stay back stage until your set."

Adrien stared at him a moment.  It was an extremely odd request.  "You don't want me greeting guests and working the floor?"

Robert shook his head again, waving his hands.  "Absolutely not."  He grinned, looking happier than a kid on Christmas.  "We have a very special guest out there, and she's here to see you."  He tapped Adrien in the sternum.  "I'm betting it was that Ladyblog review that did it.  Business has been huge, and now this…"  He paused to take a breath, beaming blissfully.  "It's a dream come true."

Adrien laughed at his boss.  The man was sweet and goofy, and it was both nice and hilarious to see him so happy.  "Oookay.  So I just stay back here until my set."

"Yeah."  Robert nodded again, and grabbed one of Adrien's gloved hands.  "When you go out, I want you to dance that tail off.  You're amazing, kid, and I want you to show it.  Kay?"  He patted Adrien's hand and let go.  "And don't worry, you're still getting paid the full shift.  It's just… it's going to be so much more dramatic."  His eyes were wide as he held up jazz hands.  "The impact will be huge if she doesn't see you until then."

"Got it."

Robert turned to go.  "Oh.  I love the additions to your costume.  They are fantastic."

Adrien turned, swinging his hips and watching the tail move.  "Thanks.  Marinette made them for me."

Robert's grin turned sly.  "Marinette?  That's Princess, right?  The lady you brought up on the pole a few weeks back?"

Adrien nodded.

"Ha!  Kim owes me twenty euros," he grinned.  "She does nice work.  If she's interested, I bet the other dancers could get some improvements too."

"I'll let her know."  He'd brought her card to share with any of the dancers who wanted to work with her.  He'd already given one to Jenny, who alternated between Reflekta and Horrificator.

"Great."  Robert gestured to the stage door.  "Get comfy.  We'll get you when you're up."

Still smiling and pleased from the conversation, Adrien took up a bar stool in the tiny dancers' lounge.  They didn't have a lot of space back stage, but really, they spent so little time here, it was okay.  He pulled out his cell phone and texted Marinette.

_ The new tail and collar are getting rave reviews, Princess. You can expect to hear from Jenny (aka Reflekta) in the near future. _

The text back came from her yo-yo, which she'd somehow been able to link to her phone.   _ Thank you, Kitty.  You're the sweetest.  How's work? _

She'd left his place before him, heading out for a routine patrol.   _ Something big's going on, apparently, but I'm stuck back stage until my set.   _

_ Awwww.  My beautiful Kitty should be on display.  _

Her praise and compliments filled him with warmth.  His Lady had always been good to him, but now… now she was amazing.  She seemed to know exactly what he needed, and gave it without hesitation.  Their relationship wasn't new, but the romantic part was, and he was still a little nervous, because nothing ever went this right for him.  She was doing her best to put him at ease.   _ Where are you right now? _

_ In Paris. ;) _

That was far more vague than usual.  And knowing his Lady as he did, he suddenly had suspicions about the club's special guest.  He heard the music of the next act start up, Stormy Weather was hitting the stage.

_ Gotta focus on this so I can be done in time to escort my Kitty home.  TTYL.  XXX _

Adrien set aside his phone and ducked into his cubicle to change from his leather pants to the new faux leather and hot pants he used for his act.  He threw down a yoga mat and ran through his stretches.  Robert wanted him at his best, so he may as well be warmed up.  

By the time Adrien was cartwheeling onto the stage he had a pretty good idea who he could expect to see at the table with the best view of pole #2.  He was insanely delighted to see Ladybug sitting with Alya.  She grinned at him, when he made eye contact from the pole.  She tilted her head just a touch to hear what Alya was saying, not taking her gaze off him.

He was well into the heavy pole section of the routine when there was a collective gasp from the audience, followed by ear splitting shrieks of glee.  A familiar yo-yo wrapped around the top of his pole, and after a moment his Lady was suspended above him, rotating with him.  She extended a hand toward him as she arched her back perfectly.  He was a little breathless, and it was only muscle memory that got him through the next few moves, all of which Ladybug copied.  He wondered if he could get her to try the pole without the suit and her enhanced abilities.  A pole duet would be incredibly hot.  Maybe too hot, actually.  

When he dismounted from the pole, he held up a hand toward her, grinning when she grasped it for her own flip to the ground.  She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek before returning to her table and letting him finish his routine.

It took a lot longer than usual to make his rounds on the floor.  The DJ had to loop his music a few times.  People kept stopping him to stuff money in his outfit and squeal about how awesome it was that Ladybug had danced with him.

When he finally reached their table, Alya was laughing her head off about something.  "Well hello there Chaton," Ladybug teased, reaching out to tap his bell.

His mouth fell open and his cheeks flushed.  His Lady played dirty, the little sneak.

"I hope I didn't throw you off at all when I joined you, but I just couldn't help myself."  She tucked some bills under his collar.

He took a breath and drew on his years of interactions with her as Chat Noir.  "Not at all, Milady.  It was a pleasure to dance with you.  I didn't know you were accustomed to the pole arts."

She giggled.  "I'm really not.  It's much more Chat Noir's thing.   **My** Chat Noir, that is."  She winked at him.  "He couldn't join me here tonight, but Alya's got video for me to share.  I'm sure he'll be very pleased with your portrayal of him."

Adrien looked over to Alya, who'd gotten herself under control.  "Could you send that to Mari?  She's going to be so jealous she missed this."

"Already done," Alya promised, holding up one hand.

"So you enjoyed the performances?" Adrien asked, eyes back on his Lady.

She nodded.  "Very much.  I agree with Aya that Miraculous is definitely a stand out establishment.  I fully approve."

He let out an exaggerated sigh.  "That's a relief, Milady.  I don't think I could continue if you didn't approve."

Ladybug shook her head.  "It would be criminal to make you quit something you enjoy so much, especially when you're so damn good at it."  She held out her arms to give him a hug.

"You should definitely come back when rent is due and I'm low on cash," he whispered.  "My devious Princess."  He straightened up.  "You're welcome back, anytime."

"Thank you, I'll keep that in mind."  She opened her yo-yo.  "If you'll all excuse me, I have a patrol I need to finish."

"We wouldn't want to keep you from that," Adrien agreed, stepping back.  

Ladybug winked.  "Yes, well, I'm planning on sneaking in Chat's bedroom window when I'm done, so, I'd really best be off."  She waved and scampered through the crowd.

"Wait!" Alya said, her eyes wide and her face utterly shocked.  She looked at Adrien.  "She knows who Chat Noir is?  She's going to sneak in his bedroom window?!  Holy crap!  Ladynoir is confirmed!"

Adrien patted Alya on the shoulder.  "I'll catch you later, Al.  Good luck with that scoop."  He wanted to wrap up his shift so he could be ready when Ladybug showed up.  Though it wasn't at all necessary, it was rather nice of her to give him a warning before she broke in this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks all for reading. Huge thanks to Callmecirce for suggesting this and to Seasonofthegeek for upping the ante. It was a ton of fun. I hope you all enjoyed it, and that the wait for chapters 6-8 wasn't too bad.


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